


Deciding

by triste



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 05:14:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triste/pseuds/triste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The whole point of paying a surprise visit was for the visitor to surprise the visited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deciding

Title: Deciding  
Author: Triste  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Pairing: America/England  
Rating: PG  
Status: Complete  
Disclaimer: Not mine

~~

The whole point of paying a surprise visit was for the visitor to surprise the visited. Unfortunately for America, however, the one left feeling surprised when he decided to turn up on England’s doorstep one day was him. He certainly hadn’t expected to find England already entertaining a guest. It left America somewhat deflated.

“You could have called to let me know you were coming,” England said as he led America through to the sitting room. “You wouldn’t be inconveniencing me like this if you had.”

“Sorry,” America replied, shrugging. “I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

“It’s fine. Just warn me in advance next time.”

“I’m a spontaneous person! I don’t believe in this planning and preparation business.”

“All that aside, it is helpful for the host.”

America patted England on the shoulder. “You won’t be able to live a big life if you get hung up on all the little details. Besides, you don’t have to worry about not having enough food to provide your guests with. Nobody would want to eat your cooking anyway.”

“That’s enough,” England scowled. “Or do you want me to kick you out before you can insult me any further?”

“Fine, fine,” America grinned. “So, who’s here? Is it France? Japan? Or is it Canada? He mentioned something about wanting to see you again.”

England shook his head. “Actually, it’s Hong Kong. Behave yourself, all right? Don’t show me up. Or yourself, for that matter.”

“Jeez, I’m not going to go berserk or anything,” America said, slightly hurt. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you,” England claimed. “Just be nice.”

America resisted the urge to stick his tongue out. It would only make England treat him like even more of a child if he did. He didn’t get what was so important about Hong Kong. There were plenty of other people who visited England that he didn’t make nearly as much of a fuss over. In any case, America didn’t know what to make of Hong Kong. He never knew what he was thinking. He never knew if he was joking or being serious. It was hard to tell with a poker face like Hong Kong’s. That was why America didn’t appreciate the idea of being left alone with him, no matter how briefly.

“Wait here while I make more tea,” England said. “I’ll be sure to bring some snacks as well.”

America had to stick his tongue out at that, unable to bear the thought of England’s weird and wonderful so-called sweets. “I don’t want any nasty scones. Don’t feed me any.”

England raised an eyebrow. “For your information, I was going to get you some chocolate cake. If you’d rather not have some–”

“I want it!” America interrupted, brightening. “Even you can’t mess cake up. Bring on the chocolate!” His smile only faded when England exited the room and left him alone with Hong Kong. An awkward silence broke out.

“Um, hey,” America said.

“Hello,” Hong Kong replied calmly.

The silence returned. America drummed his fingers on the tabletop. He had no idea what to say next. He didn’t like it. He never usually ran out of words with anyone, but Hong Kong was different. He didn’t give off the impression of being much of a conversationalist. It made America wonder what on earth he and England could have been talking about before he arrived. Hong Kong didn’t appear to be in any hurry to suggest a topic. He sat calmly as he waited for England to return. His stillness made America want to fidget. More than that it made him want England to get a move on and rescue him.

“So,” America tried again. “How’ve you been?”

“Good,” Hong Kong said. To America’s dismay, he failed to elaborate.

America admitted defeat. There just wasn’t anything for them to talk about. They had little in common, England aside.

At long last England returned with the refreshments.

“Would you like some help?” Hong Kong asked.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” England said gratefully.

America watched with a frown as the two of them set about serving, England pouring the tea while Hong Kong cut the cake. “Should I do something?”

“It’s okay,” England said. “You don’t have to do anything.”

America still felt a bit left out, but his good mood was restored after getting his first taste of cake. “This is good stuff,” he mumbled, words muffled through his mouthful.

“Don’t eat and talk simultaneously,” England scolded. “How many more times must I tell you? It’s not pleasant or polite, so please stop doing it.”

“I was only giving you a compliment.”

“That’s very kind, but do be civilised. I don’t see Hong Kong having a problem with his table manners.”

England was right. Hong Kong chose not to eat his cake with his fingers the way America was doing, but to divide it into small bite-sized pieces with a fork.

“Look,” England continued, “you’re getting chocolate all over your hands and mouth. For goodness’ sake, use a serviette to clean yourself with.”

It wasn’t anything new, being criticised by England like this, but it bothered America more than usual to have him do it in front of other people.

“Stop treating me like a child!” America exclaimed. “I’m an adult, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Then you should start acting like one,” England said primly. “I’m sorry, Hong Kong,” he added, turning to his other guest. “He doesn’t mean to cause offence.”

“I didn’t take any,” Hong Kong assured him. “I’m just glad to see someone enjoying the cake that we made.”

“We?” America echoed.

“That’s right, Hong Kong and myself,” England clarified. “We baked it together earlier this morning. I think it turned out rather well.”

Suddenly America didn’t feel so hungry. Granted the cake was delicious, but didn’t want to eat it anymore. England never noticed absorbed as he was in the conversation Hong Kong had struck up with him.

America wasn’t happy. England noticed nearly everything about him, from his behaviour to his physical condition. He picked up on the smallest things, whether America appreciated it or not. Even though he mostly nagged, it still showed that he cared. Any other time and he would have commented on America’s lack of appetite. It almost made America want to sulk, not having England’s complete attention. He wasn’t supposed to give it to anyone else. They had a special relationship. That meant excluding all others, with the exception of France and his wandering hands (someone had to control him, and England did a better job of it than most).

Unlike the permanently in denial England, America could admit when he was jealous. He was jealous of the way England smiled so freely and openly for Hong Kong. He was jealous of the way England treated him like an equal rather than a big kid that still needed looking after. America was mature when he wanted to be. He was considerate when he wanted to be. It just wasn’t very often he got to display that maturity and consideration, at least not when it came to England. Being around him wasn’t nearly as fun if he didn’t get angry or flustered.

“Okay!” America said loudly, making himself the focus again. “Now’s the part where you start telling the obligatory childhood stories, right England? You are an old man, after all. Old men love reminiscing. Tell me something embarrassing about Hong Kong when he was younger.”

England took a sip of his tea. “There’s really nothing to tell. He rarely gave me any trouble, unlike you. He still rarely gives me any trouble, unlike you. In fact–”

“Yeah, I get it,” America grumbled. “I’m a trouble causer.” This wasn’t going as planned. He made another attempt. “But I was your favourite, wasn’t I? Out of all your former colonies, I mean.”

“It’s not fair to play favourites with children.”

America refused to let England wriggle out of it. “But people do it anyway, don’t they? Go on. Tell me. Who was your number one? I bet it was me, wasn’t it? I would have been at the top if you had to rank us in order of preference. What number would Hong Kong have been? Four? Five?”

“I have no idea,” England replied firmly, “because there was no such ranking in existence.”

“I’m speaking hypothetically,” America prodded. “You must have liked some colonies more than others. What about Australia?”

England’s lips quirked upwards. “Like you, he was a noisy child. I remember he used to insist on me strapping a backpack to my front so I could carry him around in it like a kangaroo. It was the only way I could keep him quiet sometimes.”

America snickered in spite of himself. “I always did like Australia. He’s an awesome guy. Awesome but crazy.”

“Is Hong Kong not ‘awesome’?” England prompted. “The two of you are similar in some respects. You both enjoy practical jokes.”

America gawked unashamedly at Hong Kong. “You mean you have a sense of humour?”

Hong Kong took a sip of his tea. “Everyone has a sense of humour.”

“Germany doesn’t. Neither does Austria. Everything is serious business when it comes to them.” America paused. “So, um... What kind of stuff makes you laugh?”

“I like scaring people.”

“You really are England’s former colony!” America shuddered. “You do it too, huh? The dressing up and pretending to be a monster thing, I mean. Is that how you freak people out?”

“That is incorrect,” Hong Kong said with a straight face. “I prefer to blow them up with dynamite.”

“What?!” America nearly knocked his chair over in his haste to get away from Hong Kong. “Are you serious? Have I been drinking tea with a psychopath? Are there explosives planted under this table as we speak?”

“He’s kidding,” England soothed. “He just startles people with firecrackers at festivals. And also with his deadpan humour, apparently.”

Hong Kong smiled, serene. “It tends to be most effective when used on the very naïve.”

He was being made fun of, America gathered. Hong Kong was mocking him. “Hey, that wasn’t nice. Are you implying I’m stupid?”

“I never said that.”

“But you implied it.”

“There is a difference between naivety and stupidity. I recommend you consult a dictionary for further details.”

“You sarcastic little–”

England clapped his hands loudly. “That’s enough! Honestly, America. How old are you again? Stop trying to pick a fight!”

America glowered in Hong Kong’s direction. “He started it.”

England pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He looked tired. “This is why I swore to never have anything to do with raising children again after Sealand. Thank god Sweden and Finland bought him on the Internet. He’s their problem now.”

“What’s this?” America immediately forgot his irritation, unwilling as ever to miss an opportunity to tease England. “Is it getting too much for the old man to keep up with the young ones?”

“Yes,” England said bluntly.

America was taken-aback. He’d expected England to be angry and start yelling. He hadn’t anticipated such a sincere and straightforward response. “Oh. Um, don’t worry too much. Age gets to us all someday. Right, Hong Kong?”

“England could hardly be considered geriatric,” Hong Kong said mildly. “It’s the same for many others. China has lived through four thousand years, for example, and he never acts his age. He says you’re only as old as you feel.”

“And how old do you feel?”

“Older than you, at any rate.”

“Don’t fight,” England said.

“No fair,” America said. “You’re always fighting with France.”

“That’s different. It’s France.” America wanted to ask exactly how it was different, but England changed the subject. “Why don’t you two move along and watch television for a while? I’ll clean things up here.”

“Ah,” America said knowingly. “Classic parenting strategy. Keep the kids quiet by using the TV to distract them.”

“We’ll clean up,” Hong Kong offered, ignoring America when he balked at being volunteered for housework without his consent. “Take a break, England. You mentioned something earlier wanting to watch the finals of Masterchef, didn’t you?”

“For a nation so terrible at cooking, you guys sure have a lot of programmes devoted to it,” America observed. “And gardening. And property development. They’re like your three main obsessions.”

Silence reigned once more when America and Hong Kong entered the kitchen. Hong Kong washed the crockery while America dried them. It was only when he’d put the last cup aside that Hong Kong spoke.

“I don’t understand it,” he confessed.

“Understand what?” America asked, bewildered.

“The affection England has for you. You’re childish, you’re selfish and you hurt him without even being aware of what you’re doing. And yet he loves you regardless. This is what I fail to comprehend.”

It took a moment for Hong Kong’s words to sink in before America could finally figure out the weight behind them. “You know, you sound kind of jealous.”

“I’m concerned,” Hong Kong claimed. “I merely wish to ascertain England is making the right decision.”

“Why?” America said. “What is he deciding on?”

“You,” was all Hong Kong said.

America cocked his head. “I don’t get it. Is this some cryptic Asian kind of thing? Does it relate to martial arts or feng shui?”

Hong Kong sighed woefully. “I feel for England, having to deal with someone this dense. He should have chosen someone more intelligent and aware of his surroundings.”

“You’re insulting me again. And wait, what was that you said before about love?”

“Just be kind to him,” Hong Kong advised.

“Uh, sure,” America said, still no closer to enlightenment.

He received some sort of clue as to what Hong Kong’s cryptic remarks really meant later, when England invited him to stay for the night. Hong Kong politely excused himself once it started getting dark, saying it was time for him to head off home. Then it was just America and England alone together.

It was eleven ‘o’ clock when they bid each other goodnight. America dozed off in the guest room England had prepared for him soon after only to be woken up an hour later when he heard England knocking at the door.

“What is it?” he mumbled, getting into sitting position and rubbing at his sleepy eyes. “You can’t go to the bathroom on your own?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” England snapped. “It’s not that. I just... I wanted to...” He trailed off, too embarrassed to continue.

America snapped the bedside light on. He could see England blushing and fumbling. He also seemed to be hiding something behind his back. “What’s up? Spit it out so I can go back to sleep.”

England cleared his throat. “Do you know what date it is today?”

“No idea,” America said honestly. “Sorry. My brain doesn’t work too well when I deprive it of its rest.”

“It’s February the fourteenth. In other words, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“You woke me up just to tell me that?”

“No. I, um... I...” England shuffled closer. “I wanted to give you this.” He passed America a small gift-wrapped box. “It’s chocolate. Handmade chocolate.”

“England,” America said, “people only get up super early when it’s Christmas. I don’t think Valentine’s Day deserves the same respect.”

“Well,” England huffed, “if you don’t want it...”

He’d hurt England’s feelings, America realised. Not that it took much to do such a thing. Like Hong Kong had said, America seemed to do it without knowing. “Did you make this with Hong Kong too?”

“No,” England said. “I was the one who made it. It took me five attempts before it came out just the way I wanted it to. It had to be perfect.” His blush deepened. “Don’t misunderstand. I wasn’t doing it for your sake. I only did it to prove something to myself. You’re nothing special. Shop brought chocolate is good enough for the likes of you. Rejoice! This chocolate is one of a kind. You should be grovelling at my feet for bestowing you with something so incredible!”

He was babbling. He always did whenever he was nervous or unsure of himself. It was typical England, pretending that he didn’t care when really he did. Really, America thought. Hurting England was so easy, whether he did it with or without being aware of his own actions. England knew that, and yet he continued to reach out to America anyway, tentative though he was. He had to be afraid of rejection. Anyone in his position would be.

“Thanks, I guess,” America said. Seeing England’s smile, hopeful and hesitant, made something inside him did a funny flip. He opened the box. “It looks nice.” Then he sampled some of the chocolate. “It also tastes nice. That’s pretty awesome.”

England’s smile widened in relief. It reminded America of the way he’d smiled for Hong Kong. No, he told himself. This was different. The way England was smiling now was tinged with an edge of vulnerability and the urge to please someone, to make them happy. America was a sucker for that smile, not that he would ever admit it.

He set the box down on the bedside table, scooting over and lifting the covers. “Come here.” England hung back a moment before joining him, settling into the spot America had recently vacated. “Close your eyes. Come on, I’m not going to bite you.”

America did just the opposite. He kissed him.

England was left blinking in astonishment. “What was that?”

“A thank you,” America said. “See? It’s a repeating circle of the juice of human kindness.”

“The milk of human kindness,” England corrected, rolling his eyes. “Stop trying to show off when you don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure I do. It’s Shakespeare, right? From your favourite play, the one with the fairies.”

“It’s from Macbeth, actually. Also, a repeating circle is something that was used for geodetic surveying.”

“Circle, cycle, whatever. You’re so anal. How the heck do you know even know these things?” America didn’t bother waiting for England to answer, instead choosing to kiss him again.

“And what was that one for?” England asked afterwards.

“I’m your Valentine, aren’t I?” America said. “That means I can get as many kisses as I want.”

 

End.


End file.
